Dawnlark Plains the truth be told you need it more than you thought

gaze darkened, and at his very first words, something snapped into place. panic settled suddenly, and guilt froze in its rampage. it fell instead to lie somewhere at the bottom of her chest. it was her fault, hers and only, and she would live, would it. as she lived with her father's death so would she live with the death of this, by her own hand. she remembered too Rannoch's words - she should leave, become something other than what she'd been her entire life. in the depth of her grief was it a tempting prospect, but one she knew she would never take. 

panic settled into something quiet and unreadable, even by her. it was not acceptable, but it was something close. understanding, perhaps, that in this there was no set solution. she'd learn. "I know." she loved him like she had no other, but that did not matter anymore. it had lost it's meaning when she'd done the things she'd had.  "I made my bed." she pushed to her haunches, sitting awkwardly. "I'll learn." 

it was wrong of her, to probe, to ask what she had. it burned all the other desperate thoughts, questions from her mind. "thank you."  soft, easily missed or misheard. she didn't understand quite what the words were for, whether it be to thank him for what they'd had, or this single, flaming moment that had somehow settled the desperation. there was nothing to be salvaged in the fire, and the death of this was as permanent as the bones that lay buried on the mountain. there would not be forgiveness, either - she only had to meet his gaze to meet the burning pain there and know herself to be the cause. pain entwined with dying desperation burned, but it was burning out even as she held his gaze a moment.